Two Years
by tetsusaiga-chick
Summary: Two years, and this is what you made of me
1. Chapter 1

It's been two year since he left.

'Two long years,' she thought. 'Two years..that's forty-eight months, one hundred and four weeks, seven hundred thirty days, seventeen thousand five hundred and twenty hours, one million fifty-one thousand two hundred minutes, sixty-three million seventy-two thousand seconds.'

Two years...since she died inside.

He left without a word. Mere hours after witnessing the death of Jean Gray. And she hasn't heard from him since. Not a card, not a call, not even a damn smoke signal. And it killed her.

She's sure the Professor knows. He knows where he is, what he's doing, who he's with. But refuses to share any info with the slowly withering young adult. And she hated him for it.

But she hated Logan more. She understood the pain he was in, but everyone was hurting. She was hurting, and he left her to grieve alone. Well, not completely alone.

A sick smile spread across her face as she slowly peeled the long black gloves off her smooth pale skin. She let her fingers glide up the top of her arm, up to her elbow and back down. Her smile grew when she turned her arm over to reveal and abundance of jagged, deep scars covering her wrist. She let her fingers trace a few of the deeper ones before reaching into the drawer in the counter above her head.

She felt around for the soft velvet box that held her only true friends. Gripping the box she pulled it out of the drawer and placed in on the bathroom floor near her knees. Slowly, Rogue removed the top, revealing the slim, shiny razor blades below. Picking up a random blade, she slowly brought it to her upturned wrist. Lightly running the blade from her palm to her elbow, a small tear escaped her eye. Pushing down slightly, barely enough to do damage, she made her way back down to her palm. Her smile faded as she ran the blade roughly across the tender skin of her wrist, going all the way around to make a tight spiral of blood around her arm.

Rogue fell back onto the bathroom floor, letting the razor drop with a distant 'clank'. Tears unknowingly leaked out of glazed over eyes as the fragile girl reminisced about the man that left her.

She brought her arm back into view. Watching as the blood ran quickly down her forearm like a torrent of rain.

'Two years,' she thought. 'This is what you made me.'

She let the welcoming blackness envelop her.


	2. Chapter 2

The light was blinding when she woke. The small window to her light let the morning sun stream in to bounce around the spotless white room. Her eyes struggled to focus, still not quite comprehending her surroundings. A small stretch confirmed that she was bound to the bed beneath her by white restraints. Sighing, she sent a mental scream in the professor's direction.

She smiled when he came rolling in a few minutes later. He didn't return it.

"What? Aren't you happy to see me?" Rogue pouted sarcastically. When the Professor didn't even draw in a breath to speak, Rogue's heart fell.

"What happened?"

"Jean is gone Rogue," the Professor responded, and Rogue's world fell.

"She died for me?" She questioned quietly.

'Yes,' Xavier whispered in her mind.

Rage shot through Rogue's veins. Anger blinding her sight before all she could do was scream. Tapping into the strong powers in the back of her mind that had once belonged to Jean Grey, Rogue screamed in the mind of every mutant in the school before tearing off her restraints and heading for the door, desperate to leave everything and everyone behind. Despair clenched at her heart when she realized that Xavier hadn't even tried to stop her.

With every step Rogue took door slammed open and wind blew. Her hair wildly flailing in her hardened face, she hardly noticed his presence.

"Rogue," he whispered, barely audible.

And with that one word her world shattered. The wind disappeared and her hard grimace faded as tears gathered in her eyes. Her whole body tense, she slowly turned around toward the voice, and froze.

"Rogue," he whispered again.

"You came back?" she questioned quietly.

"Of course I did," he responded, slowly walking toward her.

Rogue's smile grew as Wolverine stepped ever closer. Her body slowly relaxed, waiting to be wrapped in his tight embrace. He was a step away when the wind picked up again.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"You didn't come back for me. You came back for _her,_" she responded coldly. Wolverine's smile faltered.

"How…," he started.

"She's in me. I killed her," Rogue spat. "She read your mind."

Wolverine reached out a shaky hand toward her. Rogue's eyes flashed a violent red before Wolverine flew across the room and out the window at the end of the hall. Without a second glance, Rogue turned on her heel and headed for the door.

When Rogue reached the front door, she came face to face with an X-men barricade and a large mob of student onlookers. Rogue eyed the X-men questioningly.

"We won't let you leave," Ororo stated simply.

"Won't let me?" Rogue asked.

"We know what you are going through Rogue, we want to help," Scott added.

"I killed you wife," Rogue taunted cruelly.

Scott's visor burned bright red, ready to fire before Rogue used her mind to send him across the room, leaving a huge dent in the entry way wall.

"Rogue please," Wolverine's gentle voice sounded from the stairway behind her.

"Please what Logan? Please stay here so you can sleep well at night? Please stay here so you can continue to chase an uninterested red-head that is now embedded in my mind? Please stay so you can hurt me again?" Rogue spat.

'Please stay so I can love you,' Wolverine whispered in her mind.

"You never loved me Wolverine," Rogue whispered aloud.

Without waiting for a reply, Rogue turned and walked out the unblocked door.

Standing at the gate, Rogue sent a telepathic message to Wolverine. 'Two years and one day Wolverine. Twenty-four months, one hundred and four weeks, seven hundred thirty one days, seventeen-thousand five hundred forty-four hours, one million fifty-two thousand six hundred and forty minutes, sixty-three million one-hundred-fifty-eight-thousand four hundred seconds. Two years, and this is what you made of me.'


End file.
